Interesting State
by Adam Shmadam
Summary: My take on 9.1.
1. Chapter 1

_Here is one of my ideas on how Series 9 opens. Thanks for the reviews for "Status Quo" - they are much appreciated! _

Ruth watched the TV on the Grid in horror as a second explosion rocked the hotel. It had been only about ten minutes since she had talked to Harry on the phone, but it had seemed much longer than that. Tariq kept looking at her anxiously as they both tried to raise someone, anyone, on the phone and find out what the hell had happened. The longer they waited, the harder it was to stay calm and keep on the job. She tried not to think of Harry in particular and rationalized with herself that there were a thousand reasons why he couldn't answer his mobile that instant.

"Lucas!" Tariq shouted down his headset.

Ruth patched herself in to the conversation. Lucas was concise, but the emotion behind his words was almost overwhelming.

"Lucas, this is Ruth. Listen to me – you need to take care of yourself now…I mean it. I'm off to the hospital. If there's anything new, you can let the Grid know. I've got a small army of analysts here to go through what we have at the moment." It was a small lie, but there was no way she wasn't going to the hospital, and there was equally no way she was letting Tariq go through all this new information on his own. She would commandeer anyone she could on her way out, and deal with the question of whether or not she had the authority to do so later.

Tariq just sat there with his head in his hands. Ruth put a hand to his shoulder.

"I'll be OK…you should go." She reluctantly left him, hoping to God they'd get more time later to grieve.

She had rounded up some help for Tariq, got a pool car, and made it to the hospital in what must have been record time. She had absolutely no memory of the drive through London – she could only hope she hadn't killed anyone on the way. Her mind was reeling with what was just happened. It was the second explosion that did it. It was a tactic growing popular amongst terrorists – detonate a bomb, and then a second one a few minutes later to maximize casualties. All the people who rushed to help the victims of the first blast become the victims of the second.

The emergency ward was chaos. Ruth was desperately searching for a face she knew amongst the crowd. There was a lot of blood, and cries of pain. She managed to get a nurse and flash her ID in what she hoped was an authoritative manner. Someone, a doctor maybe, witnessed the exchange and grabbed Ruth's arm.

"Are you Ruth Evershed by any chance?"

"Yes." It took all of Ruth's willpower to try not to throttle this guy. Or faint.

"Come with me."

Down a long corridor and the chaos subsided the tiniest bit. She was lead to a doorway. The doctor put his hand on the doorknob and turned to Ruth.

"Sir Harry is in here."

"How is he?"

"Not too bad considering. He got some broken ribs, a broken collarbone, a nasty concussion, and some stitches to his scalp. Bled like a stuck pig." Ruth's face went white.

"Sorry…He's asked for you. We've given him some pretty heavy painkillers, but if you could try to keep him calm and still until we can get him sedated, that would be doing us a huge favor. As you can see, we've got our hands full at the moment."

"Of course. I'll do what I can."

Ruth felt like her heart had turned over when she entered that hospital room.

_More to come - hopefully in the next day or two. Reviews appreciated!_


	2. Chapter 2

The explosion threw Harry Pearce to the ground. His ears were ringing and all around him was confusion. A dead feeling filled his heart as he realized that his officers and the Home Secretary were probably still inside. He fought his way through the CO19 officers and rescue workers, desperately looking for a familiar face. It was slow going, and the further along he went the more his eyes stung from the acrid smoke. He did just manage to catch a glimpse ahead of him of the tall outline of Lucas before he was engulfed in a cloud once again. _At least he's still alive. _He made a silent prayer that Ros' knack for cheating death was with her again today.

Then suddenly all around him was hell and fire. A split second of brimstone and then blackness. His lungs and eyes burned. There was a vague sensation of a set of arms, Lucas' he thought, of dragging him along. There was nothing to see but black smoke and nothing to hear but the endless ringing. He could smell blood and wondered if it were his own. The next thing he could remember was lying on small patch of grass looking up at the sky. Searing pain was coursing through his body, and after a bit of concentrated effort he figured out it seemed to be mostly from his right side and head. He concentrated a bit more and reasoned that this excruciating pain was a good thing…he wasn't dead. He contemplated the overcast sky above and thought of Ruth, and gradually the memory of her voice was replacing the din in his head.

"I need Ruth," he croaked to no one in particular.

Without knowing how, Harry found himself in hospital. His shoulder was immobilized and some sort of bandage was on his head. The pain was terrific, but his lapses in memory were worrying him more. To not be in control was one of the worst things he could imagine. The ringing in his ears was subsiding a bit and he needed to find out what was going on. His phone must be around somewhere, and he gingerly tried to stand up to look for it. The world was spinning fantastically. Someone grabbed him.

"I don't think so, Sir Harry," a nurse said. "It'll be awhile yet before you're up and around."

Harry struggled to focus on one of the spinning people in front of him. "There's just one of you?"

"I certainly hope so."

"I need…" "

"You need to rest now – no arguing."

"Ruth Evershed. I need to talk to her. Please."

Harry was working on charming his way to at least being able to make a phone call when the syringe was plunged into his arm.

"Don't worry. It's just a painkiller, although a pretty powerful one. You may be a bit loopy for awhile, but this will help."

"Ruth…"

The door closed and Harry was alone. The room was small and Harry could feel a surge of panic start to overwhelm him. Since his trip in a car boot a little over a year ago, he had bouts of claustrophobia. By sheer force of will he had managed to deal with the elevators at Thames House, but other spaces were trickier. He needed to get out, and he needed to get to work. Harry thought that if he moved slowly enough, he could keep the room from spinning and he could get himself out and back to the Grid and Ruth. The painkiller was starting to kick in – a sensation of pins and needles was working its way up his legs and arms. The sharp pain in his head was definitely subsiding, but it was being replaced by a very foggy feeling which was very disconcerting. He managed to get his feet on the floor and was trying to take a step when he was vaguely aware of the door opening.

Almost before he could look up, wonderful, beautiful Ruth was beside him.

"Back to bed, Harry."


	3. Chapter 3

_**Thanks for all the reviews! I hope you like this chapter. **_

The sight of Harry standing upright was not what Ruth had expected. He was in a hospital gown, his knuckles white where he gripped the foot of the bed and muttering about getting to the Grid. He raised his eyes and looked at her, but she could see from his clouded gaze that the painkiller was taking effect.

"Back to bed, Harry."

He looked at her again and suddenly Ruth was confronted with the image of him standing on that dock years ago. Harry rarely looked helpless, but here he was again before her with a mixture of tenderness and sadness all over his face.

"I NEED to get out of here."

"You need to rest, Harry. The Grid will still be there…"

"You don't understand…"

She was restraining him now, and despite being concussed he was freakishly strong. Ruth was going to have to change tactic if she was going to keep him calm and not hurt his collarbone or ribs any further. Harry was insistent, his eyes glued to the door behind her. Sweat beaded on his brow and Ruth noticed he was breathing rapidly. In an instant, she realized what was going on. Her analyst brain had taken and fit the pieces together with practically an audible click.

"Harry, I need you to promise me that you will not move from this spot. I'm going to open the door, OK?...Harry, promise me."

"I promise."

Making sure he wouldn't fall over, Ruth quickly made for the door and propped it open. A tension seemed to leave his face, and he wasn't moving. Progress.

"Harry, you need to lie down. I'll get you some water." He still didn't move.

"You know I can be just as stubborn as you. Harry, I need you to do this….please, for me." She hated having to resort to emotional blackmail, but there was no other way at the moment. She moved close to him to move him towards the bed. She moved to take his hand.

"Don't."

Harry's eyes were closed, and he took a deep breath.

"Everything's spinning, and I'm seeing two of you." He bowed his head until their foreheads were touching. Ruth had no idea how long they leaned against each other, but Harry's claustrophobic panic seemed to be subsiding. It was only a matter of time, however, before she wouldn't be able to hold him up.

"Harry, I need to get you to bed."

"Now you tell me," he chuckled. "I'm not at my best right now, but I'll try."

Moving ever so slowly, Ruth managed to get Harry comfortable. He was being very silly and very charming, and in the midst of the mutual flirty banter Ruth had to remind herself that it was the painkiller at work on Harry's part. When he had settled down a bit, he asked about what had happened and she told him all that she knew – Ros had died, Lucas was bruised but OK, and that the Home Secretary was fighting for his life somewhere in the hospital. For now, the crisis between India and Pakistan was subsiding. Harry's only response was a tear rolling down his cheek.

He had been quiet for awhile and his eyes were closed, so Ruth assumed Harry was asleep until he took hold of her hand. He kissed it lightly and placed it over his heart. "You're here."

"Yes, Harry."

"I can scarcely believe it most days."

Harry kept hold of her hand. If he was sleeping, it was a very fitful sleep. He muttered to himself and hummed alternately. Some of the things he said were unintelligible, others very clear. He swore profusely and creatively, making it very hard for Ruth to not laugh. He was also very contrite when he seemed to be talking to his children. It was uncomfortable for Ruth, hearing some of Harry's most private thoughts. She was now privy to a side of Harry that no one else knew of, and she was certain that he would be embarrassed, rightly or wrongly, by her knowledge.

When she had concluded that Harry was no longer aware of her presence, invariably he would address a comment or ask a question of her.

"I'm going to have a lovely scar on my head like Frankenstein's monster."

"I don't think so. The cut is in your hairline. You'll still be the same handsome Harry."

"You think I'm handsome, then." A big smile, and then more humming, this time very clearly it's the "Ode to Joy".

"I'm not going to remember any of this, am I?"

"Probably not. How are you feeling?"

"Achy, but not badly. The spinning is slowing down a bit."

"That's good."

"I need to talk to Catherine."

"Of course. I'll let her know what happened."

"Don't worry her. Just tell her I'm fine, and I'll call when I get the chance."

"Thank you, Ruth."

"For what?"

"Everything…..would you have dinner with me again?"


	4. Chapter 4

_**Sorry for the wait for this one – real life is interfering with fanfic! I'm not entirely sure of this chapter. Let me know! Many thanks for all the reviews so far – they keep me going…**_

A harried-looking young doctor entered the room.

"You seemed to have managed pretty well, thank you. This particular drug is great for the pain, but tends to make the patients pretty interesting."

He made a quick examination of Harry's stitches and eyes and pronounced that although his head was still seeping a bit, Harry would be much better after some uninterrupted rest. Another quick needle prick to the arm for some sedative and the doctor was off again.

"Ruth?" Harry asked with a bit of panic in his voice.

"I'm still here."

He gave her a wan smile. He could feel his consciousness slipping away and knew he didn't have long to say what he needed to.

"I'm not foolish enough to expect that you feel the same way, but I need you to know that I love you, Ruth. I never stopped loving you."

The last words were slurred, and Harry was out before Ruth could respond. She had known, of course. How could she not? It was obvious from the way that he looked at her when they were alone on the Grid, the way he always managed to sit next to her during briefings. But there was a difference between knowing something in your head and knowing it in your heart. Hearing him speak those words took her breath away. It suddenly seemed like the entire universe was contained in that hospital room. She loved him and he loved her; could anything in their lives ever be that simple? Ruth allowed herself to hope for an instant that it was possible.

She brushed her hand across his brow and watched his chest rise and fall with his breathing. As much as she longed to talk to him, she was heartily glad that he was on his way to recovery. Tears silently streamed down her face when she remembered her panic earlier in the day when she thought the worst.

Ruth's phone was off, but Lucas had no doubt where she'd be. He found Harry's room and silently went through the still open doorway. Ruth was lost in her own thoughts and hadn't noticed Lucas come in. He watched her for a moment, feeling embarrassed for witnessing such a private moment between his colleagues.

"Ruth…Harry's going to be OK," he said softly.

"I know. Any news?"

"Nothing yet. I've sent Tariq home – he no use to us as exhausted as he is. Your new recruits can let us know if anything comes up before tomorrow. You look a little worse for wear, too."

"Hi Pot, this is Kettle. You're black."

Lucas grinned for the first time in a long time.

"I'll drive you home. Five minutes."

Ruth looked back at Harry, sleeping peacefully. She didn't have the heart to leave him, but she knew she'd need some sleep herself if she was going to be of any use to anyone for the foreseeable future.

"Sweet dreams, Harry. I'd love to have dinner."

She leaned down and kissed him softly on the lips before joining Lucas outside.


	5. Chapter 5

_**Here we go! Keep those reviews coming!**_

Harry kept his eyes closed and tried to figure out where he was based on the sounds around him. There were lots of people milling about; some machines beeping, a television in the distance. He must be in hospital. He desperately tried to remember what happened to get him there, but his mind was blank. Mentally, he felt very sluggish and physically he felt like he had been hit by a lorry. After a great deal of thought, he managed to remember leaving the Grid to go to the hotel where the talks were being held. He had a vague notion that he had talked to Ruth at one point on the phone, but that was all. Everything else was nothingness, and that terrified him. Trying to sit up, he was rebuffed by sharp pains in his ribs. Harry swore profoundly.

"So, you're a morning person then?" an annoyingly chipper nurse asked.

"What day is it?"

"Thursday. You've been here a little over twenty-four hours."

"I need to get to work."

"You'll have to take that up with the doctor."

Sometime later and most definitely against doctor's orders, Harry found himself being driven back to Thames House. His driver had brought him a change of clothes, his electric razor, and the day's newspapers. He shoulder was throbbing mercilessly, but Harry had decided to forego any painkillers – he needed a clear head. The papers told him about the explosions, but he knew that he'd have to get the story of really happened from his team.

When Harry arrived, he was surprised by what he saw before him. There was a small army of people working, some sharing desks. A few he recognized vaguely from six, the rest he supposed were from other sections. Lucas looked up from his computer.

"Harry?"

"Lucas. What's going on?"

"Ruth. She managed to commandeer some people for us to analyse all the data we have on Nightingale."

"I should have known." Harry looked around and felt a slight pang that Ruth wasn't there.

Lucas and Harry were talking in Harry's office when Ruth came back from the Registry. The sight of Harry there was paradoxically both reassuring and infuriating. Yesterday he had been badly injured and there was no way the doctors would have let him go so soon. She put down the files she was holding and stormed into the office without knocking. Harry was glad to see her – until he realized that she was angry, very angry.

"WHAT are you doing here?"

The look on Ruth's face and the tone of her voice reminded Lucas of the maxim about discretion being the better part of valor, and he eased his way out of the office as unobtrusively as he could.

"It's good to see you too, Ruth."

"Harry, go home. You need to rest."

"I don't have the luxury of lying about while my officers get themselves killed." Harry had just been told about Ros, and he was sad and angry.

"And I suppose you endangering your recovery is going to bring her back." Ruth was tired and grieving too. Despite her exhaustion the night before, she couldn't sleep. She spent the night tossing and turning, thinking of Ros, Nightingale, but especially Harry and all the time they had wasted.

"I suppose a headache is a small price to pay for catching the terrorists that have threatened the world with nuclear annihilation." Harry was getting angry at Ruth now. He was strangely touched by her concern for his welfare, but when it came to his job, he didn't like to be second guessed. Ruth had the maddening talent for getting under his defenses. Then he noticed the smallest hint of a tear at the corner of her eyelid, and it took all his self-control to not take her in his one good arm.

"Ruth, sit down." He motioned to the sofa.

Harry looked tired and in pain, and Ruth did feel sorry for him, to a point. After seeing him yesterday, she found it hard not to want to protect him, even if it was from himself and his stubbornness.

"Ruth, I can't just sit back, especially now that I know what happened to Ros."

"Now?"

"I have no memory of what happened yesterday. I woke up in hospital, and the last thing I remember was being at the hotel."

_So he didn't remember_, she thought. She hardly expected that he'd just carry her off in his arms off the Grid, but the fact that he had no memory of what had passed between them saddened her. There was the briefest look of disappointment on her face that perplexed him.

"You've done very well," he said, motioning to the Grid.

"We needed help, and I wasn't sure what else to do…."

He smiled at her and her annoyance at him started to melt away. "Well, we'll sort it out later."

"How are you?" she asked quietly.

"Sore as hell, but I'll manage."

"Harry, promise me you'll take care?"

"I promise."

It was much later in the day, when Harry's headache was at it worst that he figured it out. Since his return, he kept trying, unsuccessfully, to remember his lost day. The longer this blank persisted, the more worried he became. It was at one point when he was staring out of his office at Ruth that it came to him, like a mental thump between the shoulder blades.

Ruth had been busy coordinating the work on the Grid. She was trying as much as possible to keep things off of Harry's desk. Maybe he would take the hint that they could manage just this once without him and he would go home and rest. She also found it very disconcerting having him around, for obvious reasons. She'd have to figure out a way to keep her head. She was being irrational, and it annoyed her. There was no reason at all for her to suppose that anything that happened yesterday was anything more than a drug-induced hallucination. Even if he really did love her (and this was the part of the whole situation that was niggling her the most), she wasn't sure what that meant if he couldn't say it without some Dutch courage.

Her phone was vibrating – she had a text message:

_Rooftop, 5 minutes? H._

It was cool up there. Harry was braced against the rail, pain apparent on his features. Before Ruth could berate him for not going home, he stated, without looking at her,

"You were there…at the hospital."

"You remember?"

"No. It's more just the vaguest of impressions. Like when you have a very vivid dream that's gone the minute you wake, and the more you try to make it come back to you, the less you remember. I sincerely apologize if I did or said anything…"

Harry looked truly terrified, and Ruth didn't have the heart to tease him much about it.

"It's OK, really. You were pretty drugged up. Most of what you said was unintelligible anyway. Although I hadn't realized you could be such a shameless flirt."

Her smile reassured him, but only a little.

"I suppose I should be grateful that you only use your powers for good! I'm still curious as to what I said, though."

"Well, if you take me to dinner, I may just tell you."

_**What do you think? I was going to end it here, but I may just have a dinner chapter…**_


	6. Chapter 6

_**Ask and ye shall receive! Sorry to take so long with this chapter – I wanted to get it just right. Reviews are very much appreciated!**_

It had been three weeks since their conversation on the rooftop, and Harry was finally taking Ruth to dinner. It had been busy on the Grid in the intervening time between Ros' funeral, the Nightingale investigation, getting to know some of the section's new officers. Harry spent most of his time either in meetings in Whitehall or reconciling paperwork left in the wake of Ruth's take-over of about half of the Security Services after the hotel explosions.

When Ruth had asked Harry out, the words were out of her mouth before her head could object. The truth of the matter was that she had found Harry's unease very endearing. It wasn't often that the head of Section D showed any weakness at all, and it was oddly adorable to her. Later that night when Ruth was in her flat, she realized that she had done the right thing. In his interesting state, Harry had made it pretty clear that he was unsure of her feelings and if anything was going to progress between them, she would have to be the one to take the initiative.

As the day wore on however, Ruth was getting more and more nervous about dinner. It didn't help matters that she was being mildly teased by some of her coworkers about having a date, instead of going out with them to drinks at the George. She had managed to deflect questions about who here date was, but she berated herself for having mentioned it in the first place. Thankfully, Harry had been in meetings most of the day, so she didn't have to worry about him unnerving her with glances from his office.

Harry's meeting with the DG seemed interminable. _Why did it have to be today of all days?_ He thought. His thoughts kept drifting to Ruth and more than once he had to deliberately concentrate on what his boss had to say.

"Care for a drink?"

"Actually, sir, I should get going…"

The DG was surprised, and it showed on his face. "Plans tonight, eh? Well, good for you!"

Ruth was getting ready to go home and get ready when her phone rang. Her heart sank when she realized it was Harry probably postponing – again.

"Hi."

"Hi. I'm running a little late…I'll pick you up at yours, but I'll be about twenty minutes later than planned. Is that OK?"

"Do you just want to meet me there instead?"

"No, I'll pick you up…do I need a tie?"

"No, why?" Harry had let Ruth pick the restaurant.

"If I did, I'd be more like 30 minutes late." Harry's collarbone had still been giving him trouble. Ruth smiled when she thought of Harry and his ties. The country could be crumbling around him in total chaos, but there was no way he would be caught dead in Whitehall without an immaculate suit, complete with tie.

"See you later."

Ruth's half of this exchange had been witnessed by a few coworkers, who started in again on their interrogations.

Driving to her flat, he was nervous. He chuckled to himself – how many times had he been beat up, shot at, or nearly blown up? None of those experiences unnerved him like the prospect of spending time with Ruth. He desperately wanted - no, needed things to go well tonight. He had thought of the time she had been away and did not want to revisit that again. He pulled up to her building and mounted the stairs, with his heart pounding in his throat.

"Hi. I'll be right there. Just feeding the cats and we can be off." She was nervous, and trying desperately not to show it. Harry walked through to the kitchen and greeted the cats who recognized him. Ruth's flat was unlike anything he had expected. Instead of a reflection of the unique and vibrant Ruth he knew, this space had about as much charm and character as a typical MI-5 safehouse. Ruth seemed to know what was going through Harry's mind.

"It is rubbish, isn't it?"

_How the devil does she do that?_ There were times she could walk in and out of his head like it was her own house.

"It's just not what I had expected."

"It's not as if I'm here very often, and when I am, I just don't have the heart to go through all my old stuff."

"You look lovely." Indeed, she did and the blush that was slowly creeping up her cheeks made her even more so to Harry. Her dark burgundy dress suited her and highlighted her ice blue eyes.

"No sling?" Ruth thought Harry looked very handsome in a navy suit and an open-necked shirt.

"Special occasion." He grinned at her and Ruth chided herself for feeling like a schoolgirl.

It was pouring, but Harry managed to find a parking space not too far away. He delighted in the fact that his umbrella gave him a perfectly innocent excuse to walk close to Ruth. The restaurant was a small, but nice out of the way place, with jazz playing softly in the background. Ruth had agonized over the choice of restaurant, but had settled on this one particularly because of the unlikelihood that someone at work would stumble upon them there.

The discussion started off a bit awkwardly, but once the initial nervousness wore off a bit, they fell into easy conversation. They had mutually agreed to not talk of work, and found themselves talking of all sorts of things. Harry generously poured some wine for the both of them.

"Should you be having that?"

"I'm not taking any painkillers right now." At her look of disapproval, he continued, "I need a clear head. I think I got myself in a bit of trouble last time I had drugs in my system." He gave her another grin that melted her heart.

"You haven't asked me about what you said then." She was treading on dangerous ground now.

"No. I was curious, but now I'm just thankful."

"Thankful?"

"Whatever I said or did then got me here with you tonight, so I figured it couldn't have been too bad. Besides, I didn't want to take away your fun of having the upper hand on me too soon."

They talked of books and music and travel. Ruth recounted some of her adventures in Europe after she had left London those years ago; Harry asked about places he had never been.

"Do you miss Cyprus?" It was Harry's turn to venture towards the quicksand.

She thought about it carefully for a moment, and Harry grew increasing worried he had gone too far, too soon.

"Some of it, yes. Especially on a day like today". She chuckled. "The colors were so vibrant there, and everything was open and honest…I miss Nico very much." Her voice started to shake a bit, and Harry instinctively took her hand. "I don't even have a photo of him."

"I am sorry…Children do change your perspective on everything, don't they?" It was sometimes easy to forget that Harry was a parent of two.

"How is Catherine?"

"She's in Lebanon now, but she's coming back to England soon so I can meet the boyfriend. I'll have to practice being the foreboding father."

"That shouldn't be too hard." The resulting chuckle helped release a bit of tension in the air.

The sky had cleared by the time they had left the restaurant.

"It's far too early to go home and it's a fine night now. Should we walk for a bit?" Harry asked.

They started walking slowly, with no particular direction in mind. Ruth slid her hand in Harry's, and he felt as if he could walk on air. They continued in companionable silence, and eventually found themselves near the river.

"I did miss this." Ruth said, indicating the light dancing off the Thames.

Harry stopped abruptly, forcing Ruth, who was still holding his hand, to face him.

"Ruth…there's something I need to tell you…I should have told you years ago…"

They were the same words he said all those years ago on the dock, before she left. Unlike back then, Ruth didn't protest this time, and Harry pressed on.

"I love you, Ruth. I'm not going to pretend it's going to be easy, but I want to be with you, if you'll have me."

She was silent for a moment, and panic gripped Harry's heart.

"Harry…"

She put her hands on the front of his jacket, and kissed him soundly. She pulled away suddenly.

"Your shoulder…"

"Bugger my shoulder."

Then he took her into his arms again.


End file.
